


show me a good time baby

by crispierchip



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Edging, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panties, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sex Bets, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispierchip/pseuds/crispierchip
Summary: “Like I said, it’s all good if you wanna chicken out of it,” Gabe repeats, which - Tyson didn't make it to the NHL without approximately two hundred competitive bones in his body, so he’s very graciously not going to say yes tothat.“I’m not chickening out!” Tyson lets out, still off-balance from the realization that he just unknowingly offered his body up to Gabe. “But, like, what do you mean by sex slave?”





	show me a good time baby

**Author's Note:**

> written for the kinkmeme prompt: Tyson Barrie/Gabe Landeskog, inadvertent sex bet, wherein tyson and gabe bet over something and the loser gets to be the winners sex slave for a week.
> 
> i know gabe has a dog irl, but she's not featured in this.
> 
> huge thanks to ava for forcing this into some semblance of order <3
> 
> Set sometime vaguely in the offsason when Tyson and Gabe are both still in Colorado.

The bet is over something stupid, which makes the stakes all that much more ridiculous, in Tyson’s humble opinion. Not as ridiculous as him losing the bet in the first place, mind you, but ridiculous nonetheless.

Still, Tyson is not one to back out of a bet - he has pride, after all - so after they're done and he’s had some time to lick his fresh wounds, he asks Gabe, “What will it be, Master?”

Gabe’s face does this weird, contorted thing, then, eyes almost glazing over for a second before he seems to shake himself out of it. “I— What?” Gabe fumbles, about as awkward as Tyson’s ever seen him, which is to say not even that awkward.

“What do you want me to do?” Tyson elaborates. “Should I do the dishes or something? Do your laundry for a week? What do you want?” He’s growing impatient, and his ego isn't getting any more healed, so he crosses his arms over his chest. 

Gabe frowns for a moment, and then he seems to get it finally, eyes growing wide and lips thinning like he’s trying to hide a smile. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he says, which brings Tyson up short. 

It takes him a few seconds to catch up, and then he sighs. “I swear, Gabe, I’m done calling you beautiful in front of any sort of camera, that’s just a line I will not cross again,” he says. 

Gabe shakes his head, and he’s still smiling, inexplicably. “I don’t want you to call me beautiful,” he says, which, again, comes as a surprise to Tyson. 

“Oh,” he says, letting his arms fall to his sides. “Okay.” He nods. “Then what do you want?”

Gabe licks his lips and looks to the side. “I think I was pretty clear,” he says, mumbled and a little defensive.

Tyson narrows his eyes. He looks at Gabe, at his weaselly smile and his bright eyes, and it dawns on him that he might have misunderstood the situation. “Oh,” he says again, uncertain, because Gabe couldn't have - he couldn't have meant  _ that _ .

“It’s fine if you want to back out,” Gabe says quickly, but Tyson can tell, there’s something there, something goading. 

Still, he says, “I’m not backing out. I just didn’t — I didn’t realize you meant, you know — ”

“A sex kind of slave?” Gabe supplies helpfully, which has Tyson’s face turning about three shades redder, he can just feel it.

“Yes,” Tyson says sharply. 

“Like I said, it’s all good if you wanna chicken out of it,” Gabe repeats, which - Tyson didn't make it to the NHL without approximately two hundred competitive bones in his body, so he’s very graciously not going to say yes to  _ that _ .

“I’m not chickening out!” Tyson lets out, still off-balance from the realization that he just unknowingly offered his body up to Gabe. “But, like, what do you mean by sex slave?” he asks hesitantly.

“I mean— What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean the regular kind,” Gabe says, stumbling a little, which Tyson can at least take some pleasure from. “I was just— Fine, forget about it. We’ll just find something else to—”

“No!” Tyson says, maybe a little too loud. “I mean… I’m not backing out. Are  _ you  _ backing out?”

“No, just - I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” Gabe argues. 

“You’re not that ugly, come on,” Tyson says, which takes an actual physical toll on him to admit. 

“Again with the jokes, T-Bear,” Gabe says, but he chuckles. 

Tyson shrugs. “We doing this or what?” he asks,and that’s the closest he’s going to get to admitting that he wants this, sort of.

“You sure you ready for it?” Gabe asks, mostly a challenge, and Tyson was born ready for this. He’s about to tell Gabe this, except Gabe closes the distance between them at that moment and kisses him, and Tyson sure as fuck wasn’t ready for  _ that _ .

It shows, too, in the way that Tyson stays put there like a dead fish while Gabe brings their lips together. God, Tyson thought his embarrassment around Gabe had reached its peak the time he choked on a nacho in front of him, but this is something else altogether. 

Tyson can salvage this, though, he’s sure of it. “Wait, wait, wait,” he pulls back to say. “That wasn’t— I wasn’t ready for that.”

“Clearly,” Gabe says, a smile in his voice. 

“Try again,” Tyson says, with all the courage he can muster. He waits for it, and the four seconds that Gabe stands there thinking about it are some of the worst of his life.

Then Gabe finally moves closer, leaning in to kiss Tyson, and it’s much better this time. Gabe’s lips are soft, a little wet, and they fit nicely against Tyson’s, which is maybe a weird thought to have, but that doesn’t stop Tyson’s mind from having it. Tyson also manages to kiss Gabe back this time, a little uncoordinated but very enthusiastic. 

“Better,” Gabe says, the word mumbled against Tyson’s lips.

“Hey, that was awesome, fuck you,” Tyson says, then clamps his hand over his mouth because shit like that cannot just slip out - Jesus, Tyson, reign it in.

Gabe just laughs though, which he does a lot, when it comes to Tyson. “Hmm,” he says, which is just ominous, in Tyson’s book. 

“What?” he asks, or more like - yelps. 

“Nothing,” Gabe says quickly. “Just…” He trails off, his eyes fixed on Tyson’s lips, and that’s about the only warning Tyson gets before Gabe’s lips are on his again. The kiss is a bit harder this time, and Tyson feels his knees actually buckle when Gabe drags his teeth over Tyson’ lip. He manages to hold it together enough to breathe, and then he’s kissing Gabe back.

Gabe crowds Tyson against the counter, and then he’s pulling back, hands curving under Tyson’s thighs before he lifts Tyson up onto the counter like Tyson weighs next to nothing, which - Tyson doesn’t, thanks, but the whole thing is still hot. 

“Show off,” he mumbles, voice a little tight because his psyche can only take so much. 

“That was nothing, just wait,” Gabe counters, moving in for another kiss. His hands find their way under Tyson’s shirt to roam over his back, and they’re a little rough, his palms dragging against Tyson’s skin. Tyson shudders, and he wraps his legs around Gabe’s hips, a little hesitant, because he doesn’t want this to be too much for Gabe, doesn’t want him to pull away.

“Bedroom?” is all Gabe asks, though, and Tyson isn’t going to pass up on that. 

The walk upstairs is a little awkward, mostly because they’re both quiet and that’s unusual for them, but then they get to the bedroom, and Gabe turns to kiss Tyson against the door, and the awkwardness pretty much dissipates. 

Gabe is a good kisser - kind of bossy, but Tyson can roll with that. He sags against the door and lets Gabe have his way with him, which he thinks Gabe likes, judging by the way he grips at Tyson’s sides, holding him close.

They lose their clothes, at some point, and then move to the bed, Tyson on his back and Gabe on top of him. They’re both hard, rubbing against each other, and Tyson thinks this is it, some handjobs, maybe a BJ, but Gabe pulls back, this look on his face like he just got an idea. 

“Hey, can I - can I tie you up?” he asks, a little shy, which is very unusual for a person who has as little shame as Gabe. 

Tyson is breathing hard, his brain a couple of steps behind, and it takes him a minute to piece everything together. “Uhm,” he stalls. “Technically I have to do whatever you say,” he says slowly, in case Gabe missed that part. 

Gabe rolls his eyes. His hands are pinning Tyson’s wrists to the bed, keeping him in place. “I’m serious,” he says. His fingers tighten around Tyson’s wrists, and Tyson imagines being tied up isn’t going to be much different than this. 

“Sure,” Tyson says. He tries to shrug, but it’s difficult with Gabe’s weight on him. 

Gabe smiles brightly and lets go of Tyson. “Give me a sec,” he says, getting off the bed. 

Tyson sits up on his elbows to watch him rifle through his closet, coming up with an ugly yellow tie. 

“Just your hands,” Gabe says, and then, “Tell me if it’s too tight,” as he moves towards the top of the bed. His voice is different from what Tyson is used to, deeper, and Tyson shudders, listening to him. He thought he had it bad for Gabe before; he has no idea how he’s going to cope when this is over and they have to go back to their normal lives.

“Tyson?” Gabe says, dragging Tyson back to the present. “Is that okay?” he asks, earnest, which is very Gabe, and which Tyson likes a lot. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” he says, moving his arms up towards the headboard. 

Gabe moves closer to the top of the bed and says, “Good boy,” as he reaches for Tyson’s hands. It’s so - he says it like it’s nothing, and it sends a spark down Tyson’s spine in a way he didn’t think it would. He shivers, his entire body vibrating with it, and Gabe must see it, because Tyson can make out another smile, edging the corners of Gabe’s lips. 

Gabe doesn’t say anything; he takes Tyson’s hands in his and starts wrapping the tie around Tyson’s wrists. Gabe finishes tying Tyson’s hands together and then ties them to the headboard, above Tyson’s head. Tyson can’t help but test the knots, flexing against the tie and feeling the practically-inexistent give.

“Does that feel okay?” Gabe asks him. He runs his fingers over Tyson’s arm, then his palm, and Tyson’s hand twitches. “It’s not too tight?”

Tyson shakes his head. The tie is steady, ungiving, but it isn’t overwhelmingly tight. “I think it’s okay,” he says. His voice sounds - it sounds kind of strange, so he clears his throat.

Gabe smiles and moves down to kiss him. His lips are soft, wet, and Tyson opens up easily for him - maybe too easily, he thinks sharply, but he doesn’t have time to regret it. Gabe’s tongue slips between his lips, unhurried, if a little hesitant, and Tyson tries to kiss back, but he’s mostly content to sit there and let himself be kissed.

Gabe’s thorough, slow, and by the time he moves away, Tyson’s breathing hard, his body arching off the bed and into Gabe, a little shameless. Gabe kisses his cheek, after, then his jaw, before making his way to Tyson’s chest in tiny, chaste kisses that leave Tyson’s skin tingling.

Tyson sucks in a breath when Gabe makes it down to his stomach, sensitive, and Gabe settles him with a hand on his hip. 

“Close your eyes,” Gabe says, and Tyson does.

Gabe takes Tyson’s dick into his mouth, sucks him down until Tyson can feel the back of Gabe’s throat. He’s tempted to open his eyes, because Gabe sucking Tyson off from between his legs has got to be a  _ sight _ , but Tyson mostly wants to do what Gabe told him, to be good for him like that.

Tyson flushes at the thought, hips coming off the bed, and Gabe chokes a little, pulls back to cough. 

Tyson has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep from looking at him. “Sorry,” he says instead. 

“No worries,” Gabe says, and it’s worrisome, how Tyson can hear the smile in his voice so clearly. 

Gabe moves to kiss Tyson’s thigh, bites at the soft skin there. Tyson hisses, more surprised than anything else, because it doesn’t really hurt. Gabe sucks the skin between his teeth and runs his tongue over it, and Tyson makes a sound, deep in his throat, at the thought of being marked by Gabe. 

“Please,” he says, mostly unthinking, but Gabe readily moves to the same spot on Tyson’s other thigh, bites down there, too.

He picks a different spot after that, and Tyson arches into it each time, imagines what he’s going to look like when this is over, and moans, almost.

“There you are,” Gabe murmurs. Tyson feels the tickle of the words against his thigh and shivers. 

Gabe takes Tyson’s dick back into his mouth, swallows around him before he starts bobbing his head, and Tyson is already so close. He spreads his legs, moving into it, and tries not to think about how he must look.

“You’re doing so good,” Gabe pulls back to tell him. He starts jerking Tyson off with his hand, and it’s too dry, too rough, but working for Tyson nonetheless. “Let me make you feel good,” Gabe goes on. He takes Tyson into his mouth again, works him until Tyson feels like he’s about to come, and then... pulls back. 

Tyson makes a sound, closer to a whine this time, and he can’t help it, his eyes fly open. He looks down and almost comes right there because he was right, it is a sight, Gabe between his legs, his lips wet and red. He’s looking up at Tyson, and Tyson can see his lashes, see his tongue, darting out to wet his lips. 

“No cheating,” Gabe says. His voice is thick, and he’s still holding Tyson’s dick in his hand, and this is just so surreal.

“I— Sorry,” Tyson says, caught off guard. “You— ” He cuts himself off, uncertain and just looks at Gabe.

“Lay back down,” Gabe tells him. He licks at the head of Tyson’s dick, and Tyson throws his head back, arms tensing against the rope. “And close your eyes.” 

Tyson does, but it just makes everything worse. He feels everything now: the scratch of Gabe’s stubble on his thighs, the drag of Gabe’s palm around him, Gabe’s mouth on him. It’s all Gabe, and that’s a pretty accurate description of Tyson life since Gabe came into it. 

“Please,” Tyson says - whispers, really.

Gabe gets it; he wraps his lips around him and sucks Tyson down, works him with his mouth and his hand until Tyson is close again. Then he pulls back, squeezes his hand around the base of Tyson’s dick to stave off his orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Tyson whispers, tensing all over, his whole body shaking with it. 

Gabe does it again and again, each time driving Tyson closer, before backing off, and by the sixth time, Tyson is a trembling mess, arching into it - into anything Gabe gives him. 

“Please, please, please,” he keeps saying, but Gabe is determined, drives Tyson to the edge for a seventh and eighth time before dragging him back again. “Please,” Tyson says again. His voice is thick, his lashes wet and he feels like he’s about to cry. On the ninth time, he does cry, his dick aching with it, his body shivering. 

“Please, Gabe,” Tyson says again, voice thick with tears, and maybe that does it, because Gabe says, “It’s okay, baby, you can come now, it’s okay.”

Tyson doesn’t quite register that. It sounds too good to be true, so he keeps begging. “Please, please, Gabe, just—”

“I promise, it’s okay,” Gabe says. There’re some sounds then that Tyson hardly registers before Gabe’s hand is around him, cold and slick and such a relief that Tyson sags with it. When he finally comes, it’s feels like there’s entire buckets of it, and it leaves him feeling empty. Spent. 

Gabe waits a couple of minutes before straddling Tyson’s hips. Tyson can make out the wet sound of skin-on-skin and can’t stand it anymore. “Can I please open my eyes,” he says, and, remembering before, adds, “Gabe.”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay, baby, open your eyes,” Gabe tells him. 

Tyson does, gets to have a front row seat to Gabe’s flushed face, his hard dick, his coming all over Tyson’s stomach. He’s caught staring, for a moment, thinking about how beautiful Gabe looks, which - it’s a bad road to go down, especially when Tyson is feeling this vulnerable, so he backs out of there quick. 

“I’m gonna untie you, okay?” Gabe murmurs from above him, and Tyson barely has it in him to nod.

Gabe undoes the knots enough for Tyson to slip his hands free, and Tyson finds himself wondering if Gabe’s done this before - if he’s tied anyone else to his bed, if he’s driven them crazy like Tyson - and has to squash down the bitter tang of jealousy that rises up in his throat. 

Tyson can’t imagine getting up and going home after this; he feels too raw, too wide open. “What now?” he asks, off a sudden burst of courage.

“Now we cuddle,” Gabe says seriously. 

And Tyson is usually a cuddle first, talk later kind of person, but he has to ask: “For real?”

“You’re my slave, you have to,” Gabe tells him, and it sounds as ridiculous as Tyson thought it would, but it’s there if Tyson needed a reason, which - he didn’t.

Gabe gets into the bed and nudges at Tyson until Tyson is on his side, then lies down behind him. Gabe is bigger, but the way he wraps himself around Tyson, he feels huge. He’s warm, too, and Tyson suddenly realizes how cold he feels. He shivers, and Gabe moves closer, his bare chest to Tyson’s back. Tyson leans into it, because he might as well get everything he can from this. 

“I’m cold,” he mumbles, pressing back. 

Gabe kisses the back of his neck, and Tyson has to fight down a shudder, doesn’t want to give too much away.

“I got it,” Gabe says, as he pulls the sheet over them. Tyson personally doesn’t think that the sheet compares to Gabe’s chest, or his arms, but he’ll take it. 

+

After, when Tyson has showered and dressed himself in Gabe’s clothes, they sit down for a movie. Tyson originally kind of wanted to leave, or - not  _ wanted _ , but he thought he should. Gabe wouldn't have it, though. He talks Tyson into staying, not that Tyson needed much convincing, and starts scrolling through some titles on Netflix. 

“Just nothing scary,” Tyson says, when Gabe asks him if he has any preferences. 

Gabe chuckles but concedes. 

They cuddle on the couch, too, and Tyson would never admit out loud that he kind of needs this, but he does. It helps with how untethered he feels, and he’s never going to pass up on touching Gabe.

Gabe orders dinner at some point, and then gets dessert because Tyson insists on it. Tyson leaves a little bit after that, but Gabe keeps up a steady stream of texts as Tyson drives off, and Tyson eventually falls asleep with his phone in hand, still talking to Gabe. 

+

The next day, Tyson wakes up feeling lighter, somehow. He doesn’t spend too much time thinking about it, except when Gabe texts him asking how he’s feeling. Tyson gets what he’s trying to do, and he appreciates it, but he doesn’t really think he needs it. 

_ im fine stop fussing _ , he types.  _ wanna meet up later? _

He and Gabe arrange to get together that afternoon, and Tyson uses the time in between to talk to his parents and work off some of the excess energy at the gym. Still, he drives to Gabe’s house feeling almost giddy, practically vibrating with it.

Gabe lets him in and asks him if he wants anything, which is weird because they’re pretty much past that with each other. He keeps his distance while they watch TV, which is equally weird and basically drives Tyson nuts. Finally, when Gabe starts shooting him worried glances every few minutes, Tyson can’t take it anymore. 

“I know you’re worried, but, really, I’m fine,” he tells Gabe. Gabe looks moderately unconvinced, lips pursed as he looks at Tyson. “I promise,” Tyson says, and that seems to do it for Gabe. He lets out a breath and relaxes a little, shifting closer on the couch. 

“I just don't want to goad you into anything,” Gabe says softly. 

Tyson’s stomach tries to crawl out of his throat at that, but he thankfully manages to keep all of his organs in line. “You’re not. I’d tell you if you did.”

“If at any point you stop being fine, though,” Gabe starts, “you’ll tell me, right?” It’s so earnest, kind of quiet, and very  _ like Gabe _ .

“Absolutely,” Tyson says easily. “I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” Gabe says again, and there’s that voice again, the one Tyson isn’t quite used to. “Come here,” he says, patting his thigh, and Tyson has never moved this quickly in his life, he swears. He climbs into Gabe’s lap and feels Gabe’s hands come to settle on his hips, his thumbs tracing circles on Tyson’s hipbones. Tyson sighs.

Gabe wraps his hand around the back of Tyson’s neck and threads his fingers in Tyson’s hair, pulling him down for a kiss. It’s the same as yesterday, Gabe having his way with him while Tyson basically tries to hold it together and  _ breathe _ . 

After a few seconds Gabe pulls back and kisses Tyson’s jaw, his cheekbone, the skin behind his ear. “I think you’ll like what we’re doing today,” he leans in to whisper, and Tyson shivers.

“Okay,” Tyson says, breathy. 

Gabe leads Tyson to the bedroom where he lays back against the pillows and uncaps the lube. He slicks up his fingers and plants his feet on the mattress, spreads himself open. Tyson suddenly gets the idea of where this is going and chokes on his breath, dick jumping with it. 

“Gabe,” he says, reaching to put his hand on Gabe’s knee. 

Gabe jerks at the touch but he lets his legs fall open farther. He moves his slicked up hand between his legs and strokes himself off a couple of times, before reaching down to his hole, tracing it with his fingers. 

“Can I? Please,” Tyson can’t help but ask, though he has an inkling what the answer’s going to be. 

Gabe chuckles. “Just watch,” he says. He pushes a finger into himself and lets out a breath, sharp.

Tyson nods, a little distracted, a lot disappointed, his eyes fixed on Gabe’s hole, how it opens up for his finger. 

Gabe presses in with two fingers, jerking himself off at the same time, and Tyson keeps staring, at Gabe’s face and then his hole, thinking about how good Gabe looks, how unfair it is that he doesn’t even get to touch Gabe. 

Gabe reaches in deep with his fingers and lets his head fall back, breathing out from between his teeth. “Fuck,” he hisses, and squeezes in another finger with the first two, spreads them open inside himself. 

“You’ll get your turn,” he says, like he can read Tyson’s mind. 

Tyson licks his lips. His face feels warm, his dick hard, and Gabe is such a sight, opening himself up. “You look so good,” he says. 

Gabe doesn’t say anything, but he squeezes his eyes shut and smiles, face flushing, and Tyson wishes he could tell him this all the time. 

“Okay,” Gabe says, a few minutes later. “Lay back.” 

Tyson scrambles to obey, wouldn't dream of arguing now. He lays on his back and watches as Gabe straddles him, chokes on his breath once Gabe reaches back to wrap a hand around his dick.

“Oh, Jesus,” Tyson lets out, as Gabe lowers himself down. He wants to push up, wants to touch Gabe, but Gabe told him to be still, and Tyson wants so bad to be good for him. He holds himself still, fists curling around the sheet at his sides, desperately trying not to reach out. 

“Okay,” Gabe says, when his ass is resting on Tyson’s hips. “Okay, you can touch.”

Tyson lets out a sharp breath, hands flying to Gabe’s thighs, just looking for a point of contact. “Thank you,” he says, inexplicably, and wants to slap himself in the face for it because who even does that. 

Gabe only smiles, though, leaning down to kiss Tyson. “It’s all you, babe, you’re being so good for me,” he says, and the words drive a hole through Tyson, have him jerking up, trying to get deeper into Gabe where there’s no getting deeper. 

Gabe gasps and sits back, starts to lift himself off Tyson’s dick. “Now, you can touch, but I want you to stay still,” he says, sitting back down. 

Tyson groans, thighs trembling with the need to move, but he nods anyway. 

“Good boy,” Gabe says, and it fucks Tyson up, how much he likes hearing that. He doesn’t think about it now, though, just stays unmoving, letting Gabe take what he wants. 

It doesn’t take long for Tyson to get close, not with the hot clutch of Gabe’s body around him, not with Gabe looking like  _ that _ above him. “Please,” he says, and hopes Gabe will be able to piece together the rest because he doesn't have it in him, right now, talking. 

“Not yet,” Gabe tells him, and Tyson feels like crying. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to take another afternoon like yesterday's. 

“Just a minute more, baby, I promise,” Gabe says, like he can tell. He leans down to kiss Tyson, and that’s even worse; Tyson can feel Gabe everywhere around him, and it’s too much. 

“Please, Gabe,” he says, and his voice is wet, eyes brimming with tears. 

“One minute, I promise, just give me a minute,” Gabe says, unrelenting. He pulls back, and Tyson thought that would be better, but he just feels cold now, without Gabe blanketing his body. “Hold off for one minute, can you do that for me?” Gabe asks him.

Tyson takes in a breath, and that helps. He does it again, and his visions clears. He nods. 

Gabe takes hold of his dick and starts jerking himself off, fucking himself on Tyson’s dick, and Tyson doesn’t count the seconds, but when he gets to forty Gabe comes, coating his hand and Tyson’s stomach. He clenches down hard on Tyson as he does, and Tyson can’t help it when he whines, is too far gone to be embarrassed by it. 

“You can move now, baby, it’s okay,” Gabe says. “It’s okay, go right ahead, move for me.”

Tyson digs his fingers into Gabe’s thighs and pushes up, fucking into Gabe as deep as he can. It takes maybe four thrusts for him and then he’s coming, tears of relief making their way down his face, his nails leaving indents on Gabe’s skin. 

“That was good,” Gabe says. “You were so good for me.”

Gabe bends down to kiss Tyson’s temples and, Tyson realizes belatedly, also his tears. It’s kind of a sappy move, but, like, who’s Tyson to judge. He chuckles wetly and catches Gabe’s lips with his, pulling him into a kiss. 

+

They watch a different movie this time, but they still cuddle on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them. Gabe proceeds to wrap himself around Tyson and smother him with his arms, holding Tyson close. 

Tyson is too fucked out to argue, or think better of it for that matter, so he just leans into it, and figures if Gabe is willing to give it to him, he’ll take it.

Tyson feels better by the time he drives home, more like himself, and texting with Gabe helps.

Gabe doesn’t go more than ten minutes without sending something, and under different circumstances it might have felt overbearing, but now Tyson feels like he sort of needs it, the constant validation that Gabe is there - that Gabe didn’t just  _ use  _ him - even if this is just a bet.

+

Gabe calls Tyson the next day and asks him if he’s up to go to lunch. Tyson is kind of surprised but tries to hide it; it’s not like he thought they’d be having sex 24/7 now, except for how he kind of did. 

Still, lunch is good. They talk about nothing in particular, and, when Tyson orders dessert, Gabe spends about five solid minutes ribbing him for it. Tyson takes it in stride, as always, gets a little flustered but happily jumps into it once the waiter brings him his cake. 

It’s good to know that they can still do that, that whatever they’ve been doing in Gabe’s bed hasn’t messed with their dynamic away from it.

After, they walk back to Gabe’s apartment, close enough that their hands bump against each other every few strides, and Tyson wonders what it would be like, to reach out and take it, maybe. Decides it would be a bad idea, even without the implication of someone recognizing them. 

The thought kind of dims how he’s feeling, and Tyson spends the rest of the walk back to Gabe’s with his head bowed, hands in his pockets. He thinks Gabe notices, because as soon as they’re inside his apartment, he crowds Tyson against the door and kisses him hard, teeth smacking together for a moment before they get it right. 

Gabe’s hands go to Tyson’s sides, fingers pressing into Tyson’s ribs, and Tyson breathes out, because he at least gets to have this for another four days. 

“How do you feel about panties?” Gabe asks him, once he pulls back, which—

“What?” Tyson asks, mouth slightly agape, breath still coming in sharp pants. It’s not his most eloquent moment. 

Gabe chuckles, giving Tyson this look, from his lips down his feet, like he’s undressing him with his eyes. “Panties,” he repeats. “I think you’d look real good in them.” His hands squeeze gently where they’re resting on Tyson’s ribs.

Tyson - he’s never done anything like that before. Granted, before a couple of days ago, he’d never been edged before either. The point stands, though, that this is totally new territory for him. Unfortunately for him, he has to stumble through explaining all that to Gabe.

“That’s okay,” Gabe says. He leans in and kisses Tyson’s cheek, then whispers, “Would you like to try?” in Tyson’s ear, which basically drives all of Tyson’s breath out of him in one go.

Tyson thinks about what Gabe could do to him with that kind of ammunition, how easily he could take Tyson apart. Thinks about how much he trusts Gabe to do it.

Tyson nods. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” Gabe asks him, pulling back. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Tyson says, and it’s harder to admit that part. 

Gabe smiles and kisses Tyson’s cheek, his throat, before reaching Tyson’s mouth. 

“Come with me,” Gabe says, linking their fingers together and leading Tyson to the master bedroom. He fiddles with a drawer and comes up with a pair of black panties that he hands to Tyson. They’re lacy in parts and sheer in others, and Tyson tries to imagine what he’d look like in them. He flushes at the thought and has to look away, the panties still clutched in his hand. 

“Hey, if you don’t want to—” Gabe starts, but Tyson cuts him off. 

“No, it’s— I’m fine. I’ll just—” Tyson gestures towards the bathroom.

Gabe still looks unconvinced. “Tyson, if—”

“Too late,” Tyson says, making his way to the bathroom. “Going now.”

He thinks he hears Gabe chuckle behind him but doesn’t turn around to check. He just shuts the door behind himself and leans against it, letting out a long breath. He looks down at the panties in his hand. Looks at himself in the mirror, and then again. Does this a few times before saying  _ screw it _ and taking his clothes off. 

The panties are a little tight going on, but they fit, and Tyson spends a solid two minutes wondering where Gabe got them. He looks at himself in the mirror once he has them on, and his lips part, mouth dropping open a little. He looks - Tyson just  _ looks _ . The panties are definitely too small in the front, but they curve nicely over his ass, and Tyson can maybe see the appeal of this. 

He must be in there for a while - longer than he thought - because Gabe eventually knocks on the door. His voice is soft, coming through it. “Hey, Tyson, it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable doing this,” he says. 

“I’m fine, just—” Tyson takes in a breath. “Give me a second.” 

Gabe doesn’t say anything, but Tyson can make out his shadow moving around. He smiles to himself and opens the door, just a little. 

Gabe’s head whips around so fast that Tyson almost worries about him. 

“Promise not to laugh,” Tyson tells him. 

Gabe looks moderately confused for a second before he nods. “Absolutely,” he says, eager, and Tyson wonders how long Gabe’s wanted this, if at all. 

Tyson bites the inside of his cheek. He feels the lace drag over his ass. Decides it’s now or never and pulls the door open, taking a step out of the bathroom. 

“Oh,” Gabe says, once he gets a look at Tyson. His lips actually part, and he gives Tyson a look - one of open, wholehearted admiration - and Tyson flushes right down to his chest, he can just tell.

“Oh, wow,” Gabe goes on. He takes a step closer to Tyson, and Tyson still thinks he looks mildly ridiculous, mostly on account of the panties being too small, but he thinks he can get on board with this, with the way Gabe is looking at him. 

“You look incredible,” Gabe says and Tyson is just really glad he’s not expected to try and utter full sentences right now because that would be a trainwreck. 

As it is, he settles for the most awkward “thank you” known to man and an even more stilted chuckle.

“I mean it,” Gabe says, earnest the way Gabe gets sometimes, and Tyson wonders why he even tries to keep it together. 

“You look amazing.” Gabe takes another step closer, then another one, until he basically has Tyson up against the wall. 

The wall is cold against Tyson’s skin, and Tyson jerks away, moving closer to Gabe in turn. Gabe doesn’t seem bothered by it; he puts one hand on the wall next to Tyson’s head and the other he curves over Tyson’s hip. He leans in, close to Tyson’s ear - close enough that Tyson can feel the prickle of his stubble - and whispers, “I think you’re the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Jesus,” Tyson mumbles, pressing back against the wall, because he could care less about the cold now. His body feels hot all over, and that’s - it’s a lot, coming from Gabe. 

Gabe, clueless to Tyson’s very real internal crisis, moves to kiss Tyson’s neck, because of course he does. His lips are soft and his stubble kind of tickles, and Tyson shivers, hands finally reaching out to grip Gabe’s sides. 

“Hottest thing in the world, babe,” Gabe goes on, and maybe he’s doing it on purpose, just so he can see Tyson unravel like this, but Tyson can’t really bring himself to care.

“Please,” Tyson says. He’s getting hard, hips hitching up in an attempt to rub himself against Gabe’s thigh. 

“You like it when I call you hot, is that it?” Gabe murmurs, pressing another kiss to Tyson’s throat. His thumb traces circles on Tyson’s hipbone. “It gets you all hot and bothered?” he goes on. When Tyson doesn’t get an answer, Gabe pinches his side - the meatiest part of it, too. 

Tyson jumps, but he keeps pressing himself into Gabe. His face burns, hips twitching with every breath he takes. He nods into Gabe’s neck, and Gabe rubs over the skin he’d pinched.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to Tyson’s jaw, and Tyson flushes because he - it feels embarrassing, to admit to those things out loud, much less to Gabe, of all people. It doesn’t stop him from riding Gabe’s thigh, when Gabe pushes it between Tyson’s legs. 

“There you go,” Gabe says, pressing his thigh into Tyson. “You gonna hump my thigh?” he asks, and the way he says it is so - it’s just humiliating, like Tyson is a dog or something, and Tyson didn’t think he could get any redder, but his face grows two shades darker, he swears. 

“Please,” he says.  _ Please shut up. Please keep talking. _ “Just…”

“I know, baby, I know,” Gabe murmurs. “You’re being so good for me.”

Gabe’s hand reaches behind Tyson to palm his ass and drag Tyson forward, and Tyson’s eyes just about cross. He can feel how Gabe’s palm drags over the delicate fabric of the panties, and he wonders if this could possibly get any worse.

Gabe pushes his hand underneath Tyson’s panties, then, presses fingers over Tyson’s hole, and Tyson makes a sound too close to a whine that it’s hard to admit with any sort of pride. His hips jerk, and his dick practically drools all over the panties and Gabe’s jeans, and he supposes it  _ can _ get worse after all. 

“So pretty, baby,” Gabe says, and Tyson chokes on his breath. He squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face into Gabe’s neck, because that’s - it’s working for him. 

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” Gabe asks, because he refuses to give Tyson a break. “You like it when I call you pretty?” He pinches Tyson again, this time his ass, hard, and Tyson yelps. 

“Fuck,” Tyson breathes. He’s starting to sweat, now. He knows Gabe wants to hear him admit it, wants to hear Tyson admit to it  _ out loud _ , but he—

“Say it,” Gabe prompts gently. “You can do it, I know you can.”

Tyson - his ears burn. His eyes sting and his dick feels so hard it aches. He wants Gabe so,  _ so  _ bad. 

“I like it,” Tyson says, voice barely above a whisper. The words leave him winded. Undone. He has to suck in a breath, and it’s difficult, with how tight his chest feels. “I like it when you call me pretty.”

“Good,” Gabe says, and then, “Thank you.”

Tyson  _ would _ laugh, if only he could breathe properly. He still kind of does. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, hips shaking with how hard he’s pressing into Gabe’s thigh. 

Gabe chuckles. He threads his fingers through Tyson’s hair and turns to kiss the shell of Tyson’s ear. “You close?”

Tyson nods, hips starting to work faster. 

“That’s good, baby,” Gabe says, and moves his thigh away. His hands move to Tyson’s hips, squeezing down hard to hold Tyson in place. 

Tyson makes another one of those sounds, high-pitched and whiny and mostly confused. His hands twitch where they’re resting on Gabe’s hips, Tyson itching to touch himself, but he figures Gabe probably doesn't want that. 

“Not yet,” he says, and Tyson wants to scream because of how close he feels. He lifts his head from Gabe’s neck and meets Gabe’s eyes.

“Please,” he tries. “Gabe, just—”

Gabe brings his hand down on Tyson’s ass, and it’s not hard but it surprises Tyson enough that he shuts up. “I said not yet,” Gabe says. Then, softer, “I promise it will feel good.”

Tyson wants to drag himself away, so he can just jerk off until he comes, but Gabe hasn’t let him down yet. Each time with Gabe has felt better than the time before it, and Tyson wants to see where this is going. 

Tyson has to take a few breaths to clear his head, and then nods. “Okay,” he sighs. Then: “God. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much sex.”

“That’s because you have no game,” Gabe is quick to say.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Tyson says. With a sudden burst of confidence, he says, “I seem to be doing alright with you.” He feels himself blush as soon as the words are out, but it’s worth it for the smile Gabe gives him. 

“I’ll give you that,” Gabe says, which makes Tyson’s stomach try and curl into itself, pleased.

Gabe’s features soften, and he smiles again. He leans in and kisses Tyson, which is enough on its own to appease Tyson, but then he threads their fingers together, and that pretty much does Tyson in. 

“Come on,” Gabe says, and walks over to the bed, Tyson following behind him. 

“Can I take these off?” Tyson asks, but Gabe just shakes his head. 

“In a bit,” he says, which sounds ominous enough in and of itself - even without the, “Get on on your stomach,” that follows.

Still, Tyson gives in, stretching out on the bed and pillowing his head on his arms. He can almost feel Gabe watching him, and he can’t help but arch his back, just a bit. Thrust his ass out. 

“Jesus,” Gabe says from behind him. Tyson feels the bed dip and shivers, impatient. “You look - incredible. You look so good.” 

Gabe touches Tyson’s back, and Tyson jumps, even though he was expecting it. 

“Shh,” Gabe says, “I’ve got you.” 

Gabe’s hands move farther down to cup Tyson’s ass, and Tyson shivers, has to stifle a moan. Gabe pulls his cheeks apart and Tyson can feel the panties riding up into his crack, dragging against his hole. The whole thing feels embarrassing, and Tyson has to reach for a pillow to hide his face. 

“Come on, you don’t need that,” Gabe says, but he doesn’t try to take the pillow away. “I love the way you sound.”

Tyson doesn’t move the pillow, but he  _ does _ turn his head to the side, stops trying quite so hard to be quiet. 

“There you are,” Gabe murmurs. He kisses Tyson’s back, his spine, his ribs. He kisses Tyson’s waist and the top of his ass, and Tyson shakes with it. “You look beautiful,” he says, the words spoken into Tyson’s skin. 

“Jesus, Gabe,” Tyson breathes, because -  _ Gabe can’t just go around saying stuff like that _ . It’s too much.

“It’s true,” Gabe says, unrepentant. 

He moves away for a moment, and then Tyson can feel him pulling the panties aside. He feels Gabe’s finger at his hole, slick, and doesn’t even bother tensing up. Gabe pushes in and Tyson takes it, breaths coming in harsh pants, until he feels Gabe’s knuckles come to rest against his rim. 

“Good?” Gabe asks, and Tyson nods, mostly into the pillow. 

Gabe works his fingers in and out of Tyson a few times, stretching him, before pulling out. There’s a long moment of nothing, and then Gabe is moving between Tyson legs, pushing the panties aside until he can fit the head of his dick against Tyson’s hole. Tyson is too far gone to worry about it until he feels Gabe start to push, and then he tenses up all over, inadvertently, because that’s - it’s just not going to work. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Gabe murmurs. He has one hand planted on the mattress next to Tyson’s head and the other between them to hold himself steady. “You got it.”

“I don’t—I don’t think it’s going to work,” Tyson admits, fists curling around the pillow. 

“Try? For me?” Gabe asks, and he’s not pushing at all now, waiting Tyson out, and Tyson doesn’t want to let him down. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to,” Gabe adds, which Tyson already knew but appreciates the reminder of. 

“Okay, just—” Tyson has to take in a breath. “Slow,” he says. 

Gabe lowers himself down, at that, covers Tyson’s body with his own. He kisses the spot behind Tyson's ear, and the top of his spine, and wraps an arm around Tyson’s chest. “Of course, he promises. 

Still, it takes Tyson a moment to relax again, about half a minute too long, but he gets there. Gabe pushes in again, and nothing happens, the first time. Tyson huffs and tightens his hands around the pillow, wills himself to relax. 

“Shh, you’re good,” Gabe tells him. He kisses Tyson’s shoulder and tries again, pushes and pushes and pushes until the head of his dick finally slips in. Gabe feels huge, inside Tyson, and Tyson lets out a sharp breath, spreading his legs farther apart. 

“That’s it,” Gabe murmurs. “Open up for me.” 

Gabe starts to rock his hips, barely-there thrusts that drive him deeper in increments. It stings a little, but it mostly feels like a stretch, the inexorable kind, so by the time Gabe is in more than a couple of inches, Tyson is breathing hard - sweat beading at his temples, fingers twinging because of how hard he’s gripping the pillow, toes curling. 

Tyson doesn’t think he’ll be able to take much more, but then Gabe pushes in again. Hard. It drives his dick deeper inside Tyson, and he must get something right, because it starts to feel good again, has Tyson choking on his breath. 

“Does that feel good, babe?” Gabe asks him.

Tyson is starting to tremble, hips jerking every few seconds to push back against Gabe before rubbing his dick against the mattress. 

Tyson has gotten it by now, how Gabe likes it when Tyson answers him. “Yeah,” he breathes. His groin aches with how long he’s been in this position, but he spread his legs even more now, arches his back, tries to get more of Gabe inside him. “You feel so good,” Tyson tacks on, and hears as much as he feels Gabe’s gasp, the way his hips jump. 

“Jesus, Tyson,” Gabe says. His voice is rough, breathing labored, and Tyson likes it, likes best of all that he’s responsible for it. 

“Please, I— More,” Tyson manages, and Gabe gives it to him. 

Gabe moves the hand between them and starts rocking deeper and deeper, until Tyson can feel him everywhere, until Tyson thinks he's going to choke because of Gabe’s dick. Gabe moves his hands, threading their fingers together, and starts fucking Tyson in earnest. Hard, even thrusts that drive embarrassing sounds out of Tyson, leaving him gasping for breath. 

Tyson is getting close, he can tell, and he starts thrusting his hips into the mattress harder. It chafes really bad, but he doesn’t want to let go of Gabe’s hands to jerk himself off, so he settles for it. 

“Are you getting yourself off, baby?” Gabe asks, his mouth pressed to Tyson’s ear. “That’s good. Keep going. You look so pretty, wrapped around my dick.” 

Gabe sounds genuinely appreciative, is the thing, and that does it for Tyson. His hips jerk, once, twice, and then he’s coming, coating the inside of the panties and the bedspread beneath him, probably. 

Gabe doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he says, “Fuck,” above Tyson, and pulls out, snapping off the condom before he starts jerking himself off, eventually coming all over Tyson’s ass and the panties. 

Tyson gives him a gracious three seconds of afterglow before muttering, “Can I please take them off now?” 

Gabe chuckles and slaps Tyson’s ass. “Yeah,” he says. He waits for Tyson take off the soaked panties before pulling him to his chest and wrapping his arms around him. 

They stay like that for the longest time, Gabe basically octopus-wrapped around Tyson and Tyson hanging in there, until the need to shower overwhelms them. They shower together, no funny business except for some kissing and maybe a little bit of feeling each other up, and then lay back on the couch, a nondescript movie playing on the TV while they cuddle.

It’s pretty late by the time the movie ends, and Tyson should probably go home - except for how he doesn't really want to, and how he isn’t looking forward to his empty house or cold bed. He tries to muscle through it, gets up and puts on his shoes until Gabe purses his lips and asks him if he’d rather stay. 

Tyson knows this isn’t his brightest moment, knows that there is a point of no return somewhere and that he’s probably nearing it dangerously, but he still agrees, managing to at least not sound too enthusiastic about it. 

They sleep with the AC on, wrapped around each other, and it’s all too easy to get used to it. 

+

Tyson wakes up to an arm thrown over his side and lips pressed to the top of his spine that make his stomach jump happily.

“Morning,” Gabe murmurs, and Tyson can feel the vibration of the word against his skin. 

“Good morning,” Tyson says. He gets lost in it, for a second, the easiness of it, and when he remembers where he is and how and why, it feels like a bucket of ice water being dropped on him. He tenses, because this isn’t real, it’s a bet, and the easy domesticity shouldn’t feel this easy at all. 

“You okay?” Gabe asks from behind him, thumbs working at the knots on Tyson’s back. 

“Yeah,” Tyson is quick to say. He doesn’t want to ruin this, and Gabe’s fingers feel nice on him, his mouth even better, and they’re only on day three, according to Tyson’s count. He can milk this for another four days. 

“Wanna be better?” Gabe asks, a little dorkily, so Tyson laughs. 

“Sure,” he says, and lets Gabe push at him until Tyson is on his stomach.

Gabe moves between Tyson’s legs and spreads his cheeks, Tyson shivering once he feels the cold air of the AC against his hole. He aches, faintly, and he doesn’t think he can go again, not like that, but Gabe just leans in and swipes his tongue over Tyson’s hole. Tyson gasps, his stomach curling at the feeling. 

“Oh,” Tyson says, eyes drifting shut because it feels - it feels so new, but he likes it, likes the closeness of it. The intimacy.

Gabe chuckles against Tyson. It’s not mean or anything, but Tyson still wants to grab Gabe’s hair and tell Gabe to get down to it. He thinks about it for a moment, then reaches out and does it, fingers twisting in Gabe’s hair as he pulls him closer. Gabe makes a sound, too close to a moan to be anything but, and Tyson  _ feels  _ it against him. He tightens his fingers in Gabe’s hair and hopes he’s not hurting him. 

Gabe curses and pushes his tongue inside Tyson. Tyson chokes on his breath, toes curling against the sheets. He can feel Gabe’s stubble dragging against his skin, scratching slightly. Tyson’s body trembles, and he doesn’t - it feels like he can barely breathe with how sensitive he feels. 

“God, Gabe,” Tyson breathes. It sounds like - it’s kind of shameless, wanton, and Tyson flushes.

Gabe doesn’t chuckle this time, but Tyson thinks Gabe would, if Tyson let him. As it is, Gabe pulls back to breathe and then dives right back in, working Tyson open with his tongue. 

“I don’t think I can, not so soon,” Tyson admits. He has to let go of Gabe’s hair so Gabe can answer, and he does so with great difficulty. 

“That’s okay, baby, don’t worry about it,” Gabe tells him, pulling back to kiss Tyson’s waist. “Just enjoy it.” He pushes his face in-between Tyson’s cheeks again and proceeds to eat him out until Tyson is a puddle on the sheets, shaking and hard with a hand around his dick.

“There you are,” Gabe praises, and Tyson moans, almost but not quite without shame. 

“Get yourself off for me,” Gabe says, so Tyson does, jerking himself off hard and fast until he’s coming all over the sheets, too fucked out to care about it. Gabe keeps working him with his tongue until Tyson comes down, and then he pulls back, lays behind Tyson. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” Gabe asks, and his voice sounds rough, his breathing hard. It makes Tyson’s stomach jump. 

“Go for it,” Tyson says, listening as Gabe uncaps the lube and slicks himself up. His dick is wet when he slides it between Tyson’s legs. Hot, too. 

Tyson tightens up the muscles in his thighs and hears Gabe gasp, does it again and feels Gabe’s teeth on his shoulder, biting down. He almost yelps but leans into it because he wants it, that kind of mark on him. 

Gabe comes like that - with his teeth on Tyson’s shoulder and his hand gripping Tyson’s hip - and it’s the closest Tyson’s felt to him, even after everything they’ve done. 

+

They’re out for breakfast, later, and Gabe makes fun of Tyson only a little for ordering waffles drenched in syrup. 

Tyson doesn’t let Gabe’s mockery keep him from enjoying his breakfast, though. He chews obnoxiously and kicks at Gabe’s foot under the table until Gabe wraps his his ankle around Tyson’s and they essentially end up playing footsie under the table. 

It’s downright embarrassing, is Tyson’s point, and sweeter than the syrup on his waffles.

They part ways after that, but text each other throughout the day: Gabe, photos of what he’s watching on TV; Tyson, pictures of his food which Gabe makes fun of him for. 

It is, all in all, a typical day, except Tyson can feel the beard burn Gabe left on his thighs and spends too long thinking about it. 

+

They go to the gym together the next day, and veg out on Gabe’s couch after in front of the TV. They each start off on their own end, but move closer in increments, and pretty soon they’re touching again, Tyson’s back to Gabe's chest, Gabe’s arm thrown over Tyson’s shoulder. 

Tyson eventually leans his head back on Gabe’s shoulder, and he’s not even paying attention at this point, so he doesn’t mind much when Gabe leans down and kisses him. It’s slow, chaste, but this is Gabe and Tyson isn’t going to let an opportunity go to waste, so they end up making out on the couch, Gabe on top of Tyson, his weight holding Tyson down. 

It’s good, like everything with Gabe has been so far, and Tyson finds himself growing hard, arching up into Gabe. He can feel Gabe getting there too, and he thinks about getting on his knees for Gabe, thinks about how Gabe’s dick would feel in his mouth. Decides to go ahead and ask, because he doesn’t think Gabe would reject him.

“Can I— I want to suck you off,” he says, stumbling over his words, which - it honestly sounded smoother in his head, but pretty much everything does when it comes to Gabe. 

“Jesus, Tyson,” Gabe breathes out. His hips jerk. “I— Okay.” He sits up and leans against the back of the couch, spreading his legs a little as if to say  _ go ahead _ .

Tyson gets on his knees between Gabe’s legs and looks up at him. Gabe’s lips are parted, just a  little, and he’s looking down at Tyson. Gabe reaches out and threads fingers through Tyson’s hair, strokes his thumb over Tyson’s cheekbone. He looks at Tyson appreciatively - the same way he had before - and Tyson hasn’t quite gotten it down yet, isn’t sure if he’s ever going to, how to not flush because of that. 

“Go ahead, baby,” Gabe says. “Show me what you got.”

Tyson chuckles at that, mostly embarrassed, because he’s not sure he has that much to show, but he pushes the thought aside. Gabe hasn’t seemed dissatisfied by anything they’ve done so far, so Tyson doesn’t see why he’d start now. 

Tyson hooks his fingers into Gabe’s shorts and pulls them out of the way with Gabe’s help, before working on Gabe’s underwear. Gabe isn’t hard, but he’s getting there.

Tyson starts slow, wants to draw this out. He sucks on Gabe’s dick gently, and Gabe gasps above him, hands going to Tyson’s hair and messing it up, then holding on. Tyson starts to move his head, slow, so slow. Feels Gabe start to fill out in his mouth. 

“I wish you could see yourself, baby,” Gabe is saying. Tyson starts to wonder if Gabe ever shuts up. He probably doesn’t, Tyson thinks, and decides he likes that. “You look so good on your knees for me.”

Tyson hums, eyes falling shut. His face burns at the thought of how he must look, readily getting on his knees for Gabe. 

He sucks harder, now that Gabe is hard, and takes him as far as he can, barely past his throat. Gabe groans from above him - this deep, throaty sound that has Tyson’s hips jumping. 

“Just like that, keep going,” Gabe murmurs, fingers tightening in Tyson’s hair, pulling a little too hard. 

Tyson likes it. It feels exactly how he thought it would, and he can’t help but moan at the realization, this quiet thing that he’s sure Gabe is able to feel. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Gabe goes on. 

Gabe starts to rock his hips, driving his dick just a little bit deeper into Tyson’s throat each time. Tyson takes it, trying to breathe through his nose as much as he can; he wants to make this good for Gabe. He starts to stroke himself through his jeans, and Gabe notices that, too. 

“Yeah, you like this, don’t you?” Gabe murmurs. His hands are gentle on Tyson’s hair but his voice isn’t, and Tyson likes that, the harshness of the words. “I knew you’d like it. Fuck. You look so good with my dick in your mouth.”

Tyson whines, helpless, pressing his hand harder against his dick, and decides he’s probably going to be ruined for sex after this week is over. The thought puts a damper on his mood, and he swallows wrong, chokes on Gabe’s dick and has to pull off. 

“Shit, sorry. You okay?” Gabe asks him, his hand cupping the back of Tyson’s neck. 

Tyson nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Surprised,” he lies, then looks up at Gabe, at his genuine eyes, at his lips set into a firm line. “Again?” Tyson somehow finds it in himself to ask.

Gabe purses his lips but nods. He goes slower this time - which isn’t what Tyson wants, but  _ is _ what he’s going to get, evidently - and keeps his thrusts shallow enough that Tyson can comfortably swallow around him. It works, for a while, but Tyson mostly feels like he's cheating, and he doesn’t want that.

“Go deeper?” Tyson pulls back to ask, voice rough and fucked-out, and he doesn’t miss the way Gabe licks his lips. 

“Sure you can take that?” Gabe asks. It’s half-goading, half- honest, which basically describes their entire relationship. 

Tyson rolls his eyes and, in response, takes his dick back into his mouth. He looks up through his lashes, too, with a kind of confidence he can’t usually muster - not with Gabe around, at least.

“Jesus,” Gabe says. “Okay.” He nods and starts thrusting up into Tyson’s mouth again. He goes deeper this time around, deeper than before.

Tyson’s eyes sting, his throat convulsing around Gabe. 

“There you are,” Gabe murmurs. He traces the shell of Tyson’s ear, holding Tyson steady with a hand in his hair. “You take it so well,” he says, and he sounds pained, his face flushed, lips wet. 

“I’m gonna go a little deeper now, okay?” Gabe says. “Breathe in for me.”

Tyson does, and feels Gabe push past his mouth and down his throat. He fights it, for a moment, but eventually opens up and lets him in, swallowing around Gabe. 

“Fuck—” Gabe grits out, before pulling back. 

Tyson coughs, thick and wet, hacking into his hand. His eyes water and, when he blinks, his lashes stick together. 

And Gabe looks down at him like he’s honestly the best thing in the world. The scrutiny of it makes Tyson want to look away, but he can’t, not with Gabe’s hand still in his hair, so Tyson closes his eyes, taking Gabe back into his mouth. He sucks Gabe down, hard and fast, pushes himself to go down as much as he can before lifting up again. 

Gabe is still looking at him, and there’s something in his eyes Tyson can’t quite make out. “Get up here,” he says, in that same voice Tyson still has a hard time reconciling with his regular one. 

Tyson scrambles to get up, and then Gabe is reaching for his hand, pulling Tyson onto his lap. His eyes are fixed on Tyson’s lips, and Tyson tries to imagine what they look like: probably red, maybe a little swollen. Then Gabe leans in and kisses him hard, and it tingles, a little, Tyson’s lips still sensitive, but Tyson pushes into it, kissing back just as hard.

Gabe’s hands go to Tyson’s jeans, undo them until Gabe can work a hand into Tyson’s underwear. He takes both of their dicks into his palm and starts jerking them off. Gabe’s dick is already wet, and Tyson flushes when he realizes it’s from his own mouth. 

Gabe kisses Tyson’s neck, peppers biting kisses down the column on Tyson’s throat, marking him up, and Tyson moans, hips rocking up into Gabe’s hand. Once he’s done with his neck, Gabe moves down to Tyson’s chest, runs his tongue over Tyson’s nipple and takes it between his teeth. Gabe bites down hard, drawing a sound - an embarrassing one, at that - out of Tyson, who has to shove the heel of his hand into his mouth to keep it together.

“Don’t do that,” Gabe says. The words are spoken into Tyson’s chest, and Tyson shivers when air brushes over his nipple. “Don’t quiet yourself,” Gabe goes on. 

Tyson squeezes his eyes shut and moves his hand away from his mouth, setting it on Gabe’s shoulder instead. 

“That’s good, babe,” Gabe praises, easy as ever. He rubs his hand over the head of Tyson’s dick, and Tyson’s hips jerk, pushing his dick into Gabe’s hand. “That’s it.”

They both come like that - first Gabe, then Tyson a couple of minutes later. Tyson sags against Gabe, after, his face buried in Gabe’s neck. Gabe rests his hands on Tyson’s hips, and Tyson leans in to kiss Gabe’s neck, Gabe’s jaw, any place he can reach. 

The sun is streaming in from the windows, casting warm light on them, and the whole scene is very - it’s  _ cozy _ , and Tyson wishes he could stay here for a long time. It’s kind of depressing to think, especially considering that Tyson  _ can’t _ , so he pushes the thought aside for now and keeps laying kisses on Gabe’s neck.

Eventually they get up: Gabe to wash off in the bathroom, and Tyson to pull his jeans back up. 

When Gabe comes back he’s holding a carton of ice cream, and he meets Tyson’s eyes and winks. He walks to the couch where Tyson is sitting and climbs into his lap, his weight a settling presence on Tyson’s thighs.

Tyson is just about ready to die, this is so surreal. “Hi,” he says, and, honestly, it slips out of his mouth; he doesn’t mean to be such an idiot, it just happens - which is pretty much the story of his life around Gabe. 

Gabe just smiles, though, leaning down and kissing Tyson on the lips once, just a press of their mouths.

Tyson catches himself wondering again what this would feel like if it were real and decides it does him no good to wonder about things like that, so he rests his hands on Gabe’s thighs. Snakes them under Gabe’s gym shorts.

Gabe shivers. “Hi,” he says, and at least Tyson can take comfort in that: that Gabe is willing to indulge in Tyson’s ridiculousness, for now. “It’s salted caramel.”

It takes Tyson a moment to realize what he’s talking about. “That’s fine,” he manages, voice weak and rough and pretty much embarrassing all around. 

Gabe smirks, and - that’s fine, it’s not as if his face looks good enough as it is. He brings the ice cream between them, and Tyson jumps when the cold carton touches his stomach. 

“‘S cold,” Tyson mumbles. 

“You’ll be fine,” Gabe says, but he moves the ice cream a little closer to himself. 

Gabe uncaps it and pushes a spoon into it, scooping some up. Tyson can only watch, transfixed, as Gabe brings it to his lips. It’s - it’s downright pornographic, is what it is, Gabe licking the ice cream off the spoon. He makes a sound, too, to match the image, and Tyson has to swallow hard around nothing. 

“It’s good,” Gabe says, which - Tyson already got that part, thank you very much. “You want some?” he asks Tyson.

“Please,” Tyson says, unthinking, lips parting. 

Gabe looks at him for a moment too long, and then dips the spoon back into the ice cream. Tyson reaches out to take it from his hand, but Gabe pulls it away and says, “Let me,” which Tyson can’t rightfully argue. He opens his mouth when Gabe brings the spoon to his lips, and takes the ice cream into his mouth, licking his lips after for good measure. 

Gabe is caught staring, and Tyson thinks that maybe this has the same effect on Gabe that it had on Tyson. 

The sudden realization gives Tyson confidence, and he says, “More.”

Gabe swallows, dipping the spoon back into the ice cream before bringing it up to Tyson’s lips. It’s a bigger spoonful this time, and some of it runs down Tyson’s chin. He makes to wipe it with his thumb but Gabe is already there, licking it up, then moving in for a kiss. 

It tastes sweet, this time, and a little salty, and out of everything they’ve done, this scares Tyson the most with how much he likes it. 

+

For the first time in the past week, Tyson wakes up to no text from Gabe. He wants to worry about it, but it’s still pretty early; maybe Gabe isn't up yet. 

It hits him, then: the week is almost over. 

It’s sad to think, because Tyson liked what he and Gabe had going the past week; not just the sex, though that was pretty good in and of itself, but the rest, too. Tyson liked how they watched TV together cuddling on the couch, and how easy Gabe was with his praise, his compliments. How he made Tyson feel good. 

Then Tyson remembers yesterday, remembers Gabe feeding him ice cream and how he looked at Tyson while he was doing it, and decides you can’t just fake that. Gabe is not that good of a liar, and not that committed to the bet, and that’s a scary thought. It makes Tyson want to go to Gabe’s and explain everything. Makes him  _ hopeful _ .

He thinks about what he could possibly say to Gabe and decides that, “I want you a stupid amount,” is probably not the best way to start. He doesn’t know what else to say, though. Everything else that he’s got in his mind is probably way too sappy, and admitting those things to Gabe is more humiliation than Tyson can take.

Gabe chooses that moment to text him, and if his timing wasn’t threatening enough, his text is. 

_ we need to talk _ , it says, and Tyson has to swallow around the lump in his throat. Those words never turn out well in Tyson’s book. Then:  _ can i come over? _

And Tyson has already opened the messages, can’t just ignore them without Gabe knowing as much, so he types,  _ sure _ .

The following thirty minutes are some of the most stressful moments of Tyson’s entire life - and that includes hockey overtime, because Tyson at least knows how to play hockey. He doesn’t really know how to keep it together around Gabe. 

When Gabe finally gets there, he has his hands shoved into his pockets, and he’s avoiding Tyson’s eyes, which is very unlike him. Tyson is too freaked out to put any stock into it, instead just ushering Gabe inside and shutting the door behind him maybe a little harder than it deserves. 

“Hey,” Gabe says, shifting his weight between his feet. “I’m sorry about the message. I didn’t mean to make it sound that bad,” he goes on, which does little to actually comfort Tyson since he’s about a nine on the losing it scale. 

“That’s okay,” Tyson lies. Gabe can probably tell; Tyson isn’t particularly a good liar. “Uhm, what did you want to talk about?” He has to resist crossing his arms over his chest, because that would probably look too defensive. 

Gabe looks around, biting the inside of his cheek. He waits a second and finally takes his hands out of his pocket. “Listen, so—” he starts, then cuts himself off. “Can we sit?” he asks, voice soft.

Tyson swallows around the dryness in his throat. “Okay,” he manages, before leading them to the couch.

He expects Gabe to start as soon as they’re there, but Gabe draws it out until Tyson is actually fidgeting, his foot tapping holes on the living room carpet. 

“Listen, Gabe, you gotta give me something here, buddy, I can’t—”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Gabe cuts him off. 

It’s harsh, abrupt, and Tyson doesn’t need him to elaborate on the  _ this  _ bit. The bottom of Tyson’s stomach drops, and he gets this overwhelming sour taste in his mouth. His eyes sting, but he refuses to cry. Not over this. 

“I thought I could, but I can’t,” Gabe continues, like this isn’t bad enough. 

“Gabe, that’s fine, I get it,” Tyson says. Basically anything to get Gabe to stop talking. “You don’t have to—”

“No, but I do,” Gabe cuts him off again. “I thought if I could make this week good enough for you, then you—” He stops and chuckles bitterly. “I guess I thought you’d like me,” he says, which—

“What?” Tyson says - very eloquent, as is usual for him. 

“I know it’s stupid in retrospect,” Gabe says, but Tyson is still stuck on the him liking Gabe part, has  _ been  _ stuck for the better part of the last few years.

“Wait,” Tyson says, and he can barely hear himself over the ringing in his ears. “Back up. You thought I’d like you?”

“You don't have to rub it in, I said it was stupid,” Gabe says, and he sounds kind of sad, definitely disappointed. 

And Tyson can’t help it, suddenly: he laughs. Gabe turns toward him, looking hurt, which Tyson never meant for. 

“No, no, no,” Tyson hurries to say. “I don’t— This is just— I was so worried.” 

Gabe frowns. “I don’t—”

And Tyson has never been particularly good with words - God knows his Valentine’s card was truly a disaster come to life - so he crosses the space between them and kisses Gabe. It’s off-center, and he mostly gets Gabe’s chin, and it’s a really bad kiss, but Tyson thinks it at least gets his point across. 

For good measure, he says, “I already liked you.” Watches as Gabe smiles this wide, bright smile. Tyson always thought people exaggerated when they said that a smile can light up a person's face, but he sees it now.

“I like you, too,” Gabe says, slightly breathy. 

Tyson smiles. “That’s good,” he says stupidly. He leans in and kisses Gabe, throwing a leg over him until he’s sitting in Gabe’s lap. 

Gabe’s hands find their way under Tyson’s gym shorts until they’re palming his ass, fingers digging into the muscle, and Tyson rocks into it.

“I want to—like this,” Tyson says, and he doesn’t know if Gabe understands how Tyson wants  _ just  _ this right now, wants to see if he can have it with them, without any of the other stuff.

“Okay,” Gabe says easily. His hands gentle on Tyson’s ass, and he leans up to catch Tyson’s mouth in a soft kiss. They makes out for a while, rubbing against each other through their clothes until Tyson’s hips start to stutter, rocking unevenly. 

“Can I suck you off?” Gabe pulls away to ask, face flushed and lips bruised, hair messy from Tyson’s fingers. 

Tyson nods, hazy with want; Gabe’s sucked him off before, sure, but Tyson couldn't actually see it. He climbs off Gabe and sits back on the couch, spreading his legs so Gabe can kneel between them. 

Gabe is good at this, which Tyson already knew. He takes Tyson deep and works his throat, and pretty soon Tyson is pushing into it, hips jerking every time Gabe swallows. It doesn’t take long after that, not with Gabe looking up at him through his lashes like that. Certainly not with Gabe’s mouth around him. 

After, Tyson lays Gabe out on the couch and kisses him breathless, marveling at how he can still taste himself on Gabe’s tongue. He pulls back to spit in his hand and jerks Gabe off, gets him off that way until Gabe is coming all over his own shirt. Tyson kisses him as he comes down, working his hand around Gabe’s dick until Gabe is a shivering mess. 

“Ew,” Gabe says, looking down at his shirt. “This is gross.”

Tyson bites his lips. “Guess you’ll just have to take it off,” he says. He manages to pull it off with a straight face, too, which he thinks is admirable.

Gabe is quiet for a second, and then he bursts out laughing. “Unbelievable,” he says. He looks at Tyson, and fuck. It’s like Gabe thinks he’s  _ lucky _ or something, to have Tyson half-naked on top of him, cracking lame jokes. 

“Stop that,” Tyson says, because he can just feel it, he’s getting flustered, and he was supposed to be cool about this, God damn it.

“Stop what?” Gabe asks, like he has no idea. His fingers jump on Tyson’s sides.

“The— _ looking _ ,” Tyson manages. “Just quit it.”

“Not my fault you’re so nice to look at,” Gabe deadpans. 

Tyson feels his face burn for a long moment, then hides it in Gabe’s neck. “Oh, god,” he says, and wonders how Gabe can so easily unravel him in a few simple words. 

Hopes Gabe never stops, really.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :)
> 
> i also have a [tumblr](http://tboobs.tumblr.com/)!


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